Little Wonders
by starbin21
Summary: Sequel to "Stolen." Simon and Jeanette heal from their monstrous ordeal by themselves and together through the miraculous journey that we call life, where they will find the true meaning of love, loss, and family.
1. A New Day

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Alvin and the Chipmunks or the Chipettes.

**Author's Note: **I'm baaaack! And with the first chapter of the sequel to "Stolen." :') Now, if you haven't read "Stolen," you are going to be VERY lost, so I suggest you read that first, then come back. If you have, then read on.

So, as you all know, I'm super duper excited and can't wait to get this going again...I am so utterly excited that I have a grin stretching from ear-to-ear as I type this. Well, not _literally_, but you get what I mean. ENJOY ENJOY ENJOY!

Oh, and please...if you took the time to read it, please honor me with taking the time to review it. :D

* * *

**Little Wonders**

* * *

**Chapter One: A New Day**

The pale yellow moonlight from the Harvest Moon illuminated the bed that had white and blue sheets strewn everywhere. A tall chipmunk laid in the bed, dressed only in a pair of navy blue sweatpants. Covered in a sheen of sweat, the chipmunk groaned and twitched in his sleep.

_"No...not again...leave her alone!"_

Then with a mighty yell, Simon bolted upright in his bed, sweat pouring down his fur. The chipmunk sighed and fell back on his bed, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized that it had only been another nightmare.

Yet they all seemed so _real. _They whisked him back to a dark time in his life, a very dark time that he spent all his mental power trying to forget. But the memories still wouldn't leave, and there was always that nagging sense of guilt.

_"It's not your fault..." _he had heard her say time and time again.

Simon knew that now. After months of therapy, Simon knew that Jeanette's injury wasn't his fault. It was _his. _A low hiss escaped his mouth at the thought of the monster.

However, the teenage chipmunk, now eighteen, was much more emotionally stable than in the past. Even so, he still had some healing to do. And that healing was taking time.

_I have to go see her..._Simon thought as he rolled out of bed, instinctively reaching for his glasses in the bedside table. After fishing through his dresser, Simon threw on a sweatshirt and pair of old sneakers, opened his window, climbed onto the tree branch outside, and closed the window behind him.

After shimmying down the tree, he ran through the bramble at the back of his family's backyard and into the Millers, who lived in the house behind them. He then climbed their huge oak tree, with branches that conveniently led to any bedroom in the Miller residence. It was a blessing for both Simon and his girlfriend, who had often needed each other's company at strange hours of the night. Both of them had nightmares of their ordeal, in which they were kidnapped by a psycho-maniac who had originally planned to have them help him rob their own bands' bank accounts, but when that didn't work, he became hell-bent on selling their voices on the black market. Not to mention brainwashing the two.

It had never worked, though. Their minds were too strong, too able for that.

Simon rapped lightly on his favorite chipette's window after climbing the same branch he always did. He gave her a few minutes, because she had to wake up first, then get herself into her wheelchair and wheel herself over to the window. Thinking of that brought him back to one of his darkest memories.

_The black form fell on the floor as Simon heard hot metal meeting the flesh. Blood. Lots of blood. No green eyes. The green eyes were closed._

The bespectacled chipmunk shook his head vigorously, as if the motion would actually shake the image of her broken body bleeding in front of him out of his head. His distraction came when he heard the window lock click, and saw her delicate paws under the window, attempting to lift it from the difficult angle as she sat in her chair. He placed his paws under the window to help her lift it, then slid his thin frame through the window, shut it, and immediately bent down to kiss her. This was their normal night-greeting, as if the nightmares could be erased as soon as their lips touched each other's. As they kissed, Jeanette wrapped her arms around him, and he lifted her out of the wheelchair and carried her to her bed.

This was the way it always was. They could comfort each other without a single word. Not even a kiss; just each other's presence. The presence was like advil; but the kissing was like novocain. Absolutely numbing peace.

When the pair came up for air, Simon could see her, even there were no lights on. The same pale moonlight from his room was illuminating her. Jeanette was dressed in light purple pajama pants and a white tank top, her fur damp from sweat.

She had been having the nightmares too.

His arms became rigid, and Jeanette immediately knew what he was thinking about.

"It wasn't a bad one," she whispered into his sweatshirt.

"Yes it was. Your top is nearly soaked. Which one?" It wasn't a question; not really. He already knew the answer.

"Laundry room," Jeanette whispered even softer than before, which might as well have been her exhaling, and somehow her breath had formed syllables. Simon felt his entire body go rigid then, and was thankful that the moonlight didn't reach his eyes. He didn't want her to see them; she'd think he had murder on his mind…which was actually a pretty accurate statement.

_It had happened during their captivity, somewhere into the second month. Jeanette was doing some laundry while Simon took a shower, which she enjoyed. It brought her closer to Miss Miller, who Jeanette did laundry with all the time at home. They had always talked about all kinds of things – even Jeanette's "birds and the bees" talk had been over folding a basket of laundry._

_As she bent over to retrieve and fold one of Simon's shirts, one hand was clamped over her mouth, and another around her waist, and she was slammed into the wall. It was Duponte, who was drunk out of his mind. "You're so preeettyyy," he slurred into her ear from behind, then hiccupped. Jeanette screamed against his hand, and tried to move as Duponte's other hand began to snake up her shirt. Jeanette began to cry, tears pouring down her fur and onto Duponte's hand that was still firmly placed over her mouth, muting her cries for help. He muttered something about her having a sexy body, and how he would make her all his. This made Jeanette cry even harder as she thrashed against him with every fiber of her being. _

_A crack was then heard and Duponte's hands immediately fell from her body. She whirled around and met her savior, none other than Simon, who looked like he would have murdered Duponte had he not heard the running feet of Duponte's cronies. He dropped the pan he had used to knock out Duponte, grabbed Jeanette's paw, and dragged her out of the room and into their own, where a numb Jeanette helped Simon push their bed against the door. Afterward, Jeanette went right to the shower to rid her body of Duponte's sickening cologne-scent, and after she came back out, Simon had taken their pillows, sheets, and comforter off the bed, and made a make-shift bed on the floor. She crawled into his open arms, and cried herself to sleep in his warm embrace, the one spot she ever felt truly safe in their messed up world._

_It took a week and a half of apologizing and pleading on Duponte's part to coax them out. They only opened the door a quarter of the way for food the whole time, which was plentiful; Duponte's way of sucking up. Duponte finally threatened to have his guards smash through, which Simon and Jeanette hadn't doubted they could, and reluctantly pretended to make peace with Duponte._

Simon had never let Jeanette out of his sight after that. They had even stayed in the bathroom together as the other showered, since the curtain was dark enough that they couldn't see each other. It had been the only way to stay safe. Well, as safe as two kidnapped kids could be.

Simon kissed the top of Jeanette's head, telling her what he always told her after that particular nightmare, "He can't touch you. He can't hurt you. Not anymore."

"I know," Jeanette replied.

A few moments of silence passed.

"Will you be staying tonight?" Jeanette whispered.

Simon answered by taking his glasses off and placing them on Jeanette's nightstand, right next to her own purple frames.

"Yes. I'm not leaving you with _that _on your mind."

Jeanette didn't object.

They watched the bright moon slowly fade away, and watched as the sun slowly rose to take its place. The sky was set aflame by the bright yellows and captivating oranges and pinks that swallowed up the last of the night.

It was a new day; and a new beginning.

Jeanette fell asleep in Simon's arms, and he followed her into a blessedly dreamless slumber.


	2. We Keep Marching On

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Alvin and the Chipmunks or the Chipettes.

**Author's Note **_**(PLEASE READ!)**_**:** *cringes and waits for attack* ….I know you all are probably very frustrated with me, and quite frankly, I'm frustrated with myself as well. I had a downright nasty case of writer's block, and couldn't get past the first few sentences before I sat there, fingers over the keys, not knowing what to type next. A few weeks later, I heard the song "Marchin On" by OneRepublic (fantastic song, really) on a bike ride, as my iPod had been on shuffle. Then BAM! An idea for this chapter hit me. I sat back down at my laptop, knowing exactly what to type. :) The update between this chapter and the next will hopefully not be as long!

**The chipmunked version of this song is in my profile. I **_**highly recommend**_** listening to it when the time comes in the chapter. (Plus it's just an awesome song.)**

**(IMPORTANT: **During my writer's block, I was toying with different ideas for the story in my mind. I finally decided that this will _not _be a collection of one shots, but rather an actual sequential story in which there **will **be some time-skipping. **Don't worry**; I will let you know exactly how much time has gone by in each chapter! It may not be obvious – you'll have to pay attention. ;] **)**

**Chapter Two: We Keep Marching On**

Miss Miller squinted her eyes at her clock, trying to make out the glowing numbers. When she finally figured out the time to ten of nine, she rolled out of bed, her old joints groaning in protest. She slipped on an old rosy pink bathrobe over her white nightgown, and shoved her feet into worn suede moccasins before heading out of her bedroom and down the stairs of her old Victorian home.

Eleanor was already baking breakfast when the old woman reached the kitchen, a soft smile already on her lips.

"Thank you, Eleanor. I haven't slept that well in a long time," Miss Miller told her youngest daughter.

"It's no problem at all mom," the spring-green clad chipette chirped to her as she placed a steaming bowl of fresh cinnamon oatmeal with a sliced banana on top in front of her.

"Are your sisters still asleep?" Miss Miller asked as she picked up her spoon.

"Brittany was out late last night, so I assume that she's still sound asleep. Jeanette is always up by nine, so we'll be seeing her soon," Eleanor said as she sat down with her waffles and sliced strawberries.

Miss Miller and Eleanor ate in comfortable silence; that is, until the phone rang.

"I'll get it, dear," Miss Miller said, and plucked the cordless phone off the hook from behind her seat at the kitchen table.

"Miller residence," she said, and Dave's groggy morning voice came in through the other end.

"Good morning, Beatrice," he greeted her politely.

"Hello, David! To what do I owe this pleasure?" Miss Miller asked before taking another sip of her tea.

"Simon's bed is empty and he's not downstairs, so I was calling to make sure he's over at your place," Dave sighed. "I hate to be a bother."

"Of course not dear! I'll check Jeanette's room."

Miss Miller walked up the creaky stairs and opened the first door on the left. There she found Jeanette and Simon sound asleep, with Jeanette's head on Simon's chest as he leaned against the backboard of the chipette's bed.

"He's here," Miss Miller stated brightly. "I'm sure Eleanor will feed him before he goes home."

"Thank you, Beatrice."

"Anytime, David."

Miss Miller hit "end" on the phone then closed Jeanette's door, but not before looking back at the pair sleeping soundly. She could only imagine the number of nights they had slept in the same position, but out of mostly fear, instead of mostly love.

* * *

Jeanette opened her emerald eyes groggily, her mind recalling details of the night before. _Simon_, she thought as she whipped her head around, then sighed and leaned back as she saw him sleeping peacefully next to her. He always let the fur on top of his head grow out a little bit during the summer, and a tuft of it had fallen in front of his left eye. Jeanette moved it out of the way, and lightly brushed his cheek with the back of her paw. His ocean gray eyes flickered open, and he smiled softly as he looked at his love.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't worry about it," Simon whispered back to her before pulling her into a good morning kiss. They pulled apart abruptly when Brittany opened the door.

"Time for breakfast, lovebirds," Brittany snickered.

"We'll be down in a little bit," Jeanette answered politely, although another part of her wanted to tell her older sister off for not even considering to knock. Brittany closed the door and was heard barreling down the stairs.

As if he had read her thoughts, Simon pulled Jeanette close to him again.

"Ignore her," he murmured as he grazed his lips over hers.

"Agreed," Jeanette whispered breathlessly before leaning in the rest of the way, threading her fingers through the fur on the back of Simon's head.

Simon laced his fingers through Jeanette's curly chocolate hair, pressing against it to even further fuse her lips to his own. The chipmunk then began to move his paws up and down the chipette's waist, which he knew riled her up. Jeanette let out a gasp as she pulled away.

"Simon, we have to go downstairs…" she said reluctantly when he began to nip at her jawbone.

"You know you don't want to," he said huskily.

"Of course I don't want to, but we have to," the chipette gasped again when Simon nibbled her right ear. Finally he pulled away, untangling himself from her.

"I love that I can do that to you," he chuckled as he placed his glasses on his face and handed Jeanette her own.

"I bet you do," she muttered.

"C'mon," Simon said as he got off her bed and stood by its side, beckoning her toward him with his paws.

Jeanette picked up each of her legs and moved them to the edge of the bed.

"I know this helps me, but there are some days where I just feel like I can't," she sighed hopelessly.

"Jeanny bean," Simon spoke softly as he cupped her chin to prompt her to look up at him, using her nickname that he only ever used when they were completely alone, "We all have those days. I will help you, the way you have always helped me."

Jeanette could do nothing but nod her head, since Simon piercing gaze held her so tightly. He held her paws in his, and then the chipette slid off the bed – ever so slowly – until her toes touched the ground, followed by the rest of her feet. Her knees wobbled considerably, but Simon caught her before she slid to the ground. It was there in Simon's arms that her voice began to crack, a tear escaping from the corner of her eye.

"It's no use, Simon! I can barely stand right now, let alone walk," the chipette let out her frustration.

"The physical therapist said that when you feel strong, you should attempt a few steps as part of your exercises, and you've been doing exceptionally well. You can feel everything but the very top of your kneecaps, and standing is usually fine for you, Jeanette. I know you can do it. You are stronger than any injury; you know that. You fought your way back from a _coma_, and it's been over two years since you last walked. _You can do it_," Simon said fiercely.

When he received no response, the chipmunk attempted a different approach.

"_For those days we felt like a mistake,__  
__Those times when love's what you hate,__  
__Somehow,__  
__We keep marching on_

_For those nights when I couldn't be there,__  
__I've made it harder to know that you know,__  
__That somehow,__  
__We'll keep moving on_…"

Simon pulled back and lifted Jeanette's chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"_There's so many wars we fought,__  
__There's so many things we're not,__  
__But with what we have,__  
__I promise you that,__  
__We're marching on,__  
__We're marching on__  
__We're marching on_

_For all of the plans we've made,__  
__There isn't a flag I'd wave,__  
__Don't care if we bend,__  
__I'd sink us to swim,__  
__We're marching on,__  
__We're marching on__  
__We're marching on…_"

As Simon sang, he coaxed Jeanette to take a step, in which she accomplished – shakily, but still accomplished. With Simon's help, she began placed one foot in front of another. The physical exertion made beads of sweat appear at Jeanette's brow, but she needed to push through. She wanted to move again, to be independent of her wheelchair.

"_For those doubts that swirl all around us,__  
__For those lives that tear at the seams,__  
__We know,__  
__We're not what we've seen_

_Oh_

_For this dance we'll move with each other__  
__There ain't no other step than one foot__  
__Right in front of the other…_"

Jeanette let go of Simon's paws as she became more confident in her step. It was almost like ice-skating – you physically can never do it for yourself unless you let go of the one pulling you along. Simon continued to sing as he stayed in front of Jeannette with his arms stretched out to her in case she stumbled, however, because the song seemed to be motivating her in a way he hadn't seen since those days he sat in her hospital room, strumming his guitar.

After the repeat of the chorus, Jeanette was moving around the room almost on her own. There were a few times where she almost fell, but Simon was always right there to keep her up. Tears of exertion and excitement streamed down the chipette's cheeks as Simon sang on.

"_Right, right, right, right left right,__  
__Right, right, right left right,__  
__Right, right,__  
__We're marching on…_"

Then it happened. Her wobbly knees smacked together and made her sink faster than Simon could catch her, with each leg facing opposite directions. The euphoric feeling sank as she hugged herself. But then Simon kneeled before her, and brushed the silky curls that were hanging in front of her face aside and tucked them behind her ear, lightly brushing the old faded scar on her shoulder.

"_We'll have the days we break,__  
__And we'll have the scars to prove it,__  
__We'll have the bonds that we save,__  
__But we'll have the heart not to lose it…_"

Simon then took her paws once again, and began helping her up once more, doing what he did best.

"_For all of the times we've stopped,__  
__For all of the things I'm not…_"

Jeanette smiled softly at Simon's valiant effort to cheer her and inspire her with a ballad. It was heartwarming, and the funny thing is…it was working.

"_We put one foot in front of the other,__  
__We move like we ain't got no other,__  
__We go when we go,__  
__We're marching on, marching on_

_There's so many wars we fought,__  
__There's so many things we're not,__  
__But with what we have,__  
__I promise you that,__  
__We're marching on__  
__We're marching on__  
__We're marching on…_"

Finally Simon completely stepped away from Jeanette. She was getting stronger and stronger with each step she made, and knew now that she wouldn't be broken if she fell. At first Jeanette's face clearly portrayed that she was panicking, but Simon sang on, reminding her that she was almost there.

"_Right, right, right, right left right,__  
__Right, right, right left right,__  
__Right, right,__  
__We're marching on, marching on, we're marching on…_"

Jeanette began laughing as her steps – although still shaky – were more sure and confident.

She was tiring, but determined to push herself until she could walk without shaking. Simon leaned against Jeanette's dresser, still singing the song that had inspired her more than he ever thought it would.

"_Right, right, right, right left right,__  
__Right, right, right left right,__  
__Right, right,__  
__We're marching on._"

Even after the last note finished its thrum inside Simon's vocal chords, Jeanette kept marching on.

She had always marched on.


	3. Like a Skyscraper

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except the writer's block that haunted me FOREVER.

**A/N:** IT'S FINALLY HERE. I'M SO SO SO SORRY. And I know the song I chose is not your typical high school graduation song, but it can be one if you look at it from the right angle. I was lucky enough to find that angle and finally break through my writer's block! However, the next chapter is going to be wayyy better; man you guys are gonna LOVE it. ;)

This is also very appropriate, considering I recently graduated high school myself. I look back on all four years (not to mention the twelve years in the same small town), all my friends, the mistakes I made and achievements I accomplished, and there is absolutely nothing that I would change. :) Gah, I'm gonna start crying if I don't move onto the story! Gahh here we go. :') (As always, the chipmunked version of this song is in my profile!)

*****_I apologize for the weird breaks in the lyrics. I guess even ff is mad at me for not having updated in so long. :/_

**Chapter Three: Like a Skyscraper**

~*~ _Nine Months Later_ ~*~

"ALVIN! C'mon Alvin, let's go! We're going to be late if you don't get your furry butt out of bed!" Simon exclaimed to his still-sleeping sibling as he burst open Alvin's door.

"Mmrph…" Alvin groaned and rolled over in his bed.

"Alvin, need I remind you that today is graduation day, and if we're late to the practice this morning, we don't get to graduate?" Simon smugly smiled and crossed his arms, leaning back against the doorframe to watch one of his favorite spectacles – a frantic Alvin.

"SHIT!" Alvin exclaimed, wide-awake, and burst out of his bed covers. He then began rushing around the room, whipping off his pajamas and hopping on one foot as he tried to put his jeans and shirt on at the same time.

"Oh shut up," a bleary-eyed Alvin mumbled as he walked by Simon, who was chuckling at his older brother's dysfunctional methods.

"You'll never shut me up," Simon said with a smirk as he clapped Alvin on the shoulder and passed him to slide down the staircase railing.

Alvin shook his head and yawned as he trudged down the stairs, grabbed a bagel from Dave's open hand, and walked out the door. Dave smiled at his sons as they left.

"Good luck boys, and behave Alvin!" Dave yelled out the last part as Theodore shut the door to Simon's blue Kia Soul.

* * *

"This is it. _This _is the real thing," Simon said to himself as he straightened out his tie.

Graduation practice went off without a hitch that morning, much to Simon's surprise. Alvin walked across the stage during practice without so much as a kiss to the fake crowd, which was better than many alternatives.

_Maybe Alvin is…God forbid that I jinx myself…realizing that this is a serious event, and doesn't want to do something stupid and find himself without a diploma. And maybe, just maybe, he's growing a little more mature._

"Damn Simon, lookin' sexy!" Alvin said as he walked by Simon's room and down the stairs in a flaming red suit.

…_Or not…_Simon moaned in his head.

After making sure that his traditional blue tie was completely straight, Simon put on his freshly ironed blue graduation gown and matching cap with a brilliant gold tassel. Theodore stepped out of his room into the hallway at the same time as Simon. Seeing the worried look on Theodore's face, Simon put a paw on his brother's shoulders before walking down the stairs.

"Are you okay, Theodore?" Simon asked quietly.

"I'm fine, just a…just a little, uh, nervous I guess," Theodore said, casting his eyes downward.

"Why? Today is the day we leave high school behind us!" Simon smiled at his little brother.

"Well, it's more of the, uh, ceremony itself…what if I do something stupid, like trip on my gown as I go to get my diploma? Or shake the superintendent's hand too hard? Or forget to shake his hand at all? Or what if - " Theodore rambled on before Simon stopped him.

"Ted, you are going to be fine. As long as you believe that you will walk across that stage with all the confidence in the world, you will; and I know you can," Simon smiled warmly.

"Yeah…yeah you're right. I can do this…right?" Theodore said confidently, faltering on the last word.

"Right," Simon said, grinning at Theodore. "Let's go get those diplomas!"

* * *

"BRITTANY! Brittany I swear to the high heavens that if you don't get your butt down here in two seconds I'm coming up there to get you!" Eleanor yelled up the stairs to the ever-fashionably late Brittany Miller.

"Yeah yeah I'm coming! Jeez, can't a girl put on her make-up in peace?" Brittany yelled back down.

"Not when we have to be at school in ten minutes so that we don't miss our own graduation!" Jeanette butted in.

"Not to mention I'm still supposed to warm-up with the choir before the ceremony starts…" Jeanette trailed off as she put on her white graduation gown over her light lilac dress.

"You are going to do beautifully, my dear," Miss Miller said. "You've been practicing since the day you found out that you were chosen to sing at graduation!"

"I know, but I'm still a little nervous! I have the lyrics down-pat, but the pitch ranges so far; I don't know how Demi Lovato does it!" Jeanette said before singing a low range of warm-up vocals yet again as she paced back and forth in front of the door.

"Jean, you'll do great. I know you will," Eleanor smiled as she put on her own white graduation gown.

"Alright, let's go! I'm all ready!" Brittany exclaimed as she clacked down the stairs in her heels and bolted out the front door, graduation cap and gown in hand.

Eleanor and her sister laughed and followed, ready for their big night.

* * *

"And now, without further ado, we have our very own Jeanette Miller singing "Skyscraper"!" The superintendent announced after the Valedictorian speech was finished.

Jeanette stood from her assigned seat and walked toward the stage with her cane that she had to continue using until her rehabilitation therapist said otherwise, where Simon was waiting with the keyboard that had been set-up at graduation practice. The school choir stood behind him in their assigned rows, and Jeanette gulped once she turned around and faced the audience. Simon gave her a smile and her hand a quick squeeze before sitting down at the keyboard. Jeanette smiled back, leaned her cane against the choir stand, and stood before the microphone; then recited the words she had practiced for so long.

"This is for those who have had someone tell them that they will never be able to accomplish anything, for those who worked hard to be where they are, and to remind my fellow classmates and friends that _you _are in charge of your futures. Don't ever allow anyone to tell you otherwise; stand tall and keep your ground, because you know exactly who you are."

Simon began to play at the keyboard, and Jeanette opened her mouth to sing after the first set of notes.

"_Skies are crying, I am watching_

_Catching tear drops in my hands_

_Only silence, as it's ending_

_Like we never had a chance_

_Do you have to make me feel like_

_There's nothing left of me?_

_You can take everything I have_

_You can break everything I am_

_Like I'm made of glass_

_Like I'm made of paper_

_You go on and try to tear me down_

_I will be rising from the ground_

_Like a skyscraper_

_Like a skyscraper…"_

Jeanette felt good as she belted out note after note. It felt…natural.

"…_As the smoke clears, I awaken_

_And untangle you from me_

_Would it make you feel better_

_To watch me while I bleed?_

_All my windows still are broken_

_But I'm standing on my feet_

_You can take everything I have_

_You can break everything I am_

_Like I'm made of glass_

_Like I'm made of paper_

_You go on and try to tear me down_

_I will be rising from the ground_

_Like a skyscraper_

_Like a skyscraper_

_Go run, run, run_

_I'm gonna stay right here, watch you disappear_

_Yeah, oh_

_Go run, run, run_

_Yeah, it's a long way down_

_But I am closer to the clouds up here_

_You can take everything I have_

_You can break everything I am_

_Like I'm made of glass_

_Like I'm made of paper_

_Oh oh_

_Go on and try to tear me down_

_I will be rising from the ground_

_Like a skyscraper_

_Like a skyscraper…"_

The chorus backed her up, and an up-and-coming sophomore vocalist ghosted Jeanette's chorus.

"…_Like a skyscraper…"_

Jeanette looked out on her mother, who was already dabbing at her eyes. Miss Miller knew the hidden significance of this song to Jeanette, and how important the song had been to her recovery. The school had by "chance" (or some persuasion by Jeanette's music teacher) chosen the song for graduation this year.

"…_Like a skyscraper_

_Like a skyscraper."_

Simon played the last few chords on the piano, but before he could even finish, the crowd erupted with cheers. Miss Miller, among many others, wiped tears from the moving performance. Jeanette had filled in so much emotional energy that the crowd of parents, family, and teachers felt every ounce of passion that Jeanette tried so hard to convey with just her voice.

After the cheers finally died down, the superintendent announced that they would begin handing out diplomas. It was a little while before the "M's" were called up.

"Brittany Miller!"

The eldest sister shone her brightest smile as she was given her diploma.

"Eleanor Miller!"

Eleanor shook the superintendent's hand enthusiastically and almost waltzed off the stage.

"Jeanette Miller!"

A determined Jeanette leaned her cane against the stage wall, and began taking slow steps toward the superintendent.

"What is she doing?" Alvin muttered to Simon.

Simon smiled and said, "She's being her own skyscraper."

Jeanette made it to the middle of the stage, shook the superintendent's hand as he gave her the diploma with an earnest smile, and began to walk off the stage. With each defiant step she took, she laughed to herself at all the doctors' preliminary statements saying that she may never walk again.

Soon enough, the "S's" were called and each of the Seville boys were being called.

"Alvin Seville!"

Alvin, as predicted, gave a sweeping kiss across the audience after receiving his dimploma, to which many parents chuckled in amusement and just as many of the female classmates swooned.

"Simon Seville!"

Simon walked across the stage with his head up high, and thanked the superintendent in a low whisper so that only he would hear.

"Theodore Seville!"

Theodore gulped and began taking careful steps across the stage, took his diploma and shook hands with the superintendent, and very painstakingly took step after careful step until he was back in his seat; breathing a sigh of relief.

After the "Z's" were called, the ceremony was closed in a final statement and all the graduates cheered as they threw their caps up into the air.

Simon made his way over to Jeanette after grabbing her cane from the stage, sweeping her into gentle, yet powerful kiss.

"We made it," Jeanette whispered happily into his gown as she hugged him tight.

"Yes, we did. And we have many more adventures in store for us, I can feel it," Simon said before kissing her temple. High school graduation day marked that Simon and Jeanette truly survived and could start moving onto the next chapter of their lives.

And all was right with their world…

For now.


End file.
